IWMHWD 77

Chapter 77: The Husband’s Funeral
2024.01.16.

“No matter what terms the other candidates offer, I’ll be the best choice for Count.”

Andel’s words weren’t wrong, and Cordelia nodded in agreement.

“Alright. After the funeral, I’ll write to the council. I’ll tell them just how compassionate and well-suited Mr. Rutravin is for the position.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Satisfied with the transaction, Andel and Baron Lancaster left with smiles.

With the most important matters more or less handled, the day finally came to move Craig’s coffin to the cemetery.

Rain had been pouring since morning—perfect weather for a funeral.

“Let us pray for Count Abrams, who was a merciful and exemplary man in life. Though he has now departed this world and ascended to the heavens, his gentleness will be remembered forever.”

The priest dispatched from the temple began his long and predictable eulogy. Naturally, no one gathered there truly listened.

It was obvious that everyone was sneaking glances at each other, trying to predict who the next Count would be.

Cordelia, under an umbrella, stared silently at Craig’s coffin being covered with dirt.

“Goodbye, Craig. I’m sorry it took so long to bury you.”

He hadn’t been a good husband in life, but in death, he was better than most. The resentment she’d once felt at the beginning of their marriage had long since disappeared.

She offered a short farewell as Craig’s coffin was completely buried and vanished from sight.

“If anyone has final words for the Count, please say them now.”

Most of those attending the funeral were business associates of the Abrams family or vultures eyeing the title of Count.

No one was truly mourning Craig.

As expected, no one spoke up. The priest, unsurprised, concluded the service. With a brief moment of silence, the burial came to an end.

Although a few steps in the funeral process remained, the biggest part was now over. Cordelia let out a quiet sigh and turned to head back to the estate—

—when a servant came running toward her, breathless.

“My lady. A guest… huff… has arrived.”

“Now?”

She thought, Who arrives only after the burial? They must’ve heard late, but the servant’s next words shocked her.

“From Elfenbaum.”

“Who did you say?”

“Elfenbaum, my lady. I clearly saw the Black Tiger crest.”

The servant’s voice was loud enough that the mourners behind Cordelia began murmuring at the mention of Elfenbaum.

She was about to ask if he’d made a mistake when the person in question appeared.

Soaked by the rain, Rosenbloom looked noticeably more gaunt since she’d last seen him—but that only sharpened his chiseled features.

“Oh dear, I guess the burial’s already over. I’m sorry, Cordelia. I’m late.”

He sounded genuinely apologetic, as if they had made an appointment. But Cordelia had never invited him, so his apology felt awkward.

“You’re not late. The flowers haven’t fully wilted yet. But… why are you here, Lord Rosenbloom?”

“To pay my respects to Count Abrams, of course. We only met briefly, but it left a strong impression on me.”

He received a flower from a servant, placed it atop the grave, and bowed his head in a short prayer.

“May you rest peacefully.”

His condolences carried sincerity. Perhaps he was the only one present who truly mourned Craig’s death.

“Thank you for coming, Lord Rosenbloom.”

“It was only right.”

Cordelia walked with him back toward the estate. Everyone around them clearly wanted to speak with Rosenbloom through Cordelia, but she pretended not to notice.

Rosenbloom looked far too exhausted. She led him directly to the parlor.

Though it was spring, the rain had made the air rather chilly. Cordelia handed him a towel to dry off and lit a fire in the hearth.

“There. Now that we’re alone, you can speak freely.”

“About what?”

“Why you’re here.”

“…”

“Is something wrong?”

“When was the last time you spoke with Lydia?”

“Lydia? Hm… Let’s see. It’s been a while. Maybe a month ago? The three of us—me, the master, and Lydia—had tea at a café. That was the last time.”

After that, Lydia had stopped writing altogether. Cordelia had been a little hurt, but she assumed Lydia was just busy and let it go.

With Craig’s death and her brother Dennis causing chaos, Lydia had simply slipped her mind.

“Lydia…”

Rosenbloom spoke her name but paused for a long time, as if tortured, before continuing.

“Lydia’s gone. She disappeared more than two weeks ago.”

“What do you mean? Lydia disappeared? Where to?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t know her destination either. That’s why I’ve been scouring Elsche.”

“Oh.”

Cordelia fell silent. It dawned on her that Lydia hadn’t simply run away because she was tired of home.

A noble lady, especially one from a prestigious family like Elfenbaum, disappearing—

The only remotely romantic explanation would be elopement. But knowing exactly who Lydia loved, Cordelia knew that wasn’t possible.

That left very few other explanations.

“Could someone have taken her?”

“I haven’t ruled that out.”

It was a vague answer, but Cordelia understood its meaning.

“You’re not sure whether she left of her own will or not, are you?”

“If it were a kidnapping for ransom, we’d have received contact by now. But there’s been nothing. Also, just before she vanished, we discovered that Lydia had taken several relics—and they haven’t turned up anywhere in the estate.”

“Hm.”

The situation was clearly suspicious. And uncertainty like this only drove people mad.

Rosenbloom hesitated, then said:

“Actually, a few days before Lydia disappeared, she was very shaken by the news of your husband’s death.”

“Really?”

“Yes. She was visibly shocked and repeatedly asked the servant if it was true.”

“She must’ve been really surprised.”

“Understandably so. But according to her maid, she became unusually anxious afterward—so much so that she couldn’t sleep.”

“Lydia?”

Despite reacting so strongly, Lydia had never written Cordelia a letter. And Lydia had never even met Craig—so her reaction was puzzling.

“Did Lydia know Count Abrams personally?”

“No. Not at all. As far as I know, they had no connection. Craig had that carriage accident the very day he arrived in the capital.”

“Then… did you and Lydia ever talk about him?”

“If that question seems inappropriate, I’m sorry. I came here grasping at straws.”

“It’s okay. I’ll tell you anything I can. Hmm… She once casually asked what kind of person my husband was. I answered briefly, but she didn’t seem especially interested. It wasn’t a memorable moment.”

“I see…”

Disappointment washed over Rosenbloom’s face. Cordelia couldn’t imagine what kind of emotions had brought him all this way.

“I have some letters Lydia sent me at Atillay. Would you like to look through them?”

“That… feels like an invasion of privacy.”

But the words of refusal never left his mouth. Cordelia, sensing his hesitation, offered a gentle joke.

“Don’t worry. There’s no badmouthing you in there.”

“Cordelia…”

“They’re mostly everyday letters, so I’m not sure how helpful they’ll be, but maybe there’s something I missed. And Lydia’s my friend—I want to help.”

“Thank you… truly, thank you, Cordelia.”

He was genuinely grateful. The firelight gave his face a faint flush.

“Don’t worry too much. Whatever the reason, Lydia will come back.”

“…I hope so.”

“You need to believe that most of all, Lord Rosenbloom. That she’s alive, and unharmed, and coming back. Only then will Lydia find the strength to return to us.”

“I’m the one who should be comforting you, yet here you are comforting me.”

“Grief doesn’t come in levels. The sorrow of losing a husband and the pain of searching for a sister aren’t things we can compare.”

Cordelia smiled gently and met his eyes. His face was pale and worn, but his beautiful blue eyes still held their brilliance.

Rosenbloom looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

“It’s late. Why don’t you stay the night?”

“Thank you. Honestly, the horse seemed tired, too.”

He didn’t refuse her kindness.

“You look exhausted yourself. I wish I could ask you to rest here for a few days… but I suppose you have to leave.”

“Yes. Lydia is waiting.”

“You’re right. She is waiting.”

Cordelia nodded firmly. For the first time, Rosenbloom smiled.

“What on earth happened in the capital?”